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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    all the stars are closer; leliana and prayer
    #1

    SabbatH
    i'll let you play the role. i'll be your animal.
    She has been a fool, she realizes too late as she stumbles into Tephra, heavily pregnant and terrified. The moon hangs full and bright in the night sky when she finally stumbles into a patch of flowers her mother so lovingly crafted. (And she knows these are Leliana’s by the red petals and the way they curl to her.) Her breathing comes in gasps and whimpers, shocked at the pain that comes with each contraction. Leli had spoken of each birth like some perfect blessing and never mentioned the fear or the agony, she thinks with a furrowed brow. Sabbath rolls onto her side and tries her best not to cry out as each second summons a new wave of pain.
     
    The hours pass like this, her gritting her teeth while the starlight illuminates the sheen of sweat across her neck. Her dark forelock presses to her face now as she gives her final push, allowing her daughter to slip onto the ground beside her. Despite her exhaustion, she holds her breath and listens for those first cries. Her heart hammers against her ribs as the seconds tick by like hours. Is she healthy? Is she as beautiful as Sabbath had dreamed during the winter months? Finally, she hears clumsy movements and first breaths, and she lifts herself up carefully to look at the tiny girl.
     
    Black as the sky she was born under and infinitely more gorgeous than she could ever hope.
     
    She lowers her head, careful not to poke and prod her daughter with her broken horn, and kisses her small face as she begins to clean her. Fat tears swell to the brim of her eyelids as she laughs in relief at how perfect her child is. Not a single scale across her body! Not one sharp tooth! Sabbath nuzzles her face against her girl’s shoulder and breathes a long sigh before stepping back to give her space.
     
    I’m tired too, but you have to stand now,” she whispers softly, her reptilian eyes soft with love for the first time in so long. The pink light of dawn begins to creep over the horizon, making all the scales across her body shimmer as she waits patiently.
    @[leliana] @[savage]
    #2

    Leliana does not make it in time to assist with her daughter’s birthing process or the arrival of her granddaughter. She does not feel her breach the border. She is asleep—deeply rooted in dreams—and only wakes when she feels Prayer’s first shuddering inhale. Her hazel eyes fly open, growing round, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. She leans over to Vulgaris, curled quietly next to her, and presses a kiss into his cheek—not rousing him from slumber, instead pressing the message into his subconscious.

    I’m going to check on Sabbath. Watch over Saint and Drache, my love.

    Then with a yawn, she pulls herself to her feet and is gone in a swirling pattern of leaves and petals. When her eyes open again, it is next to her daughter and the pink glow of morning continues to creep toward them both. “Sabbath,” her voice is a soft cry that spills over her lips before she can contain it. She knows that she should give her daughter space—should let her come back to her on her own terms—but she can’t restrain herself from gathering her up and pulling her close into a warm embrace.

    Her heart aches at the sight of the mare’s broken horn (just how much pain had her daughter been in?) but she doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she presses a thousand kisses to her cheek and neck before leaning back to look down at the tangle of midnight limbs. “She’s stunning,” she exhales and with it, her magic begins to weave around the pair of them. It is restorative and so similar to the golden light of her healing that she almost forgets that it is fortified by a greater power. Regardless, she presses the strength into Sabbath’s limbs—easing the ache and the exhaustion so that she can focus on the golden glow of it all.

    it's only you and me there until the darkness calls
    let's face the dawn together; we'll brave whatever comes



    @[Sabbath]
    #3


    There is a long moment of perfect stillness.
    The child lies there in stunned silence.
    The eyes open first and she blinks into the murky darkness.

    And then a great heaving breath that fills her baby lungs until she thinks they might burst. How strange to be made of elastic, she thinks. How strange to be anything at all.
    This place is hard and bright and cold and she wants to go back to the place she came from. She wants to listen to the sweet sound of her mother’s voice from someplace underwater. She wants to curl these limbs tightly under her and feel that same sweet embrace.

    Somewhere in the fray a bird begins to call and her ears swivel and she lifts her head – so heavy now that she is responsible for the weight of it. She blinks in the direction of the song but sees nothing beyond the light that puckers on the horizon.

    There, her mother’s voice. But it sounds different now, in this place, and she swings that great, heavy head around and peers up at the figure looming above her. Her mother. She strains to be nearer to her, stretches that great, long neck and tries to catch her – but she lingers just out of reach. The child kicks her legs out in front of her and struggles to stand before those matchstick limbs give out from beneath her as another figure appears, startles her. She lands in a heap, heaving lungs and splayed limbs.

    And then she is standing without knowing how she’s done it. She sways on her feet and takes one shaky step toward her mother and then another and another until she can nudge her greedy mouth beneath her and drink.


    p r a y e r
    #4

    SabbatH
    i'll let you play the role. i'll be your animal.
    She is surprised at how her chest floods with warmth at the sound of her own mother’s voice calling her name. The sad-eyed girl yields gladly to Leliana’s embrace and curls close to her as she remembers what it feels like to come home. It had been so easy to be angry when she was away from them all but she unravels gladly beneath Leliana’s affections. A soft sigh of relief slips from her lips as she turns to watch her newborn turn her head toward some distant bird greeting the morning. Her heart seems as though it may burst as the girl stands on trembling, spindly legs.

    When she tumbles to the ground again, Sabbath leans her head down and presses her lips to her daughter’s face. But the child is determined and finally stands, wobbling toward her with an empty belly. The serpent girl wants to scoop her up and hug her tight for the rest of eternity but she refrains. Instead, Sabbath kisses her tiny back as she ducks beneath her and finally looks back to her own mother now.

    I was so angry for so long,” she begins, tired green eyes focusing on the ground between them. “I didn’t know how to come back. But I didn’t want her to never know you.

    Her voice cracks and she does her best to keep the tears from spilling down her scaled cheeks. Her body is tired and it aches to collapse beneath the monsoon of emotions inside her, but she remains strong. The apology goes unspoken but she manages to meet Leliana’s gaze once more despite the way it hurts to see her eyes. They’re still soft and warm, still bursting at the seams with love even after everything has happened to their family. Sabbath hopes her daughter inherits that from their blood, if nothing else. She turns her head and lightly nudges the girl once she’s gotten her fill for the time being.

    This is your grandmother, Leliana. She loves us more than you could ever know,” she explains gently, planting another kiss on the girl’s dark face as she realizes her child has no name yet. “And this.. this is my daughter, Prayer.
    @[leliana] @[prayer]
    #5

    Leliana continues to flow small pieces of relief and strength to her daughter and granddaughter. It is not enough to sedate or otherwise dull their senses—just enough to take the edge off of the exhaustion and the pain that comes with childbirth, that comes with being born. It is subtle though and she has become skilled enough at such things that she barely pays it any mind, forgetting she has made the connection.

    Instead, all of her attention goes toward the pair of them. She gladly holds Sabbath for as long as she wants to be pressed into her, feeling her mother’s heart overflowing with love for her second borne. This daughter has always been fiery and strong and Leliana had always been so proud of her.

    If only she could have prevented the pain that she has felt.

    If only she could keep her from feeling such things ever again.

    But she is older now and recognizes that there is little hope in trying to shield a child forever and instead she just smiles when she confesses her anger. “The only thing that matters is that you came back,” she says as she presses a gentle, motherly kiss to her daughter’s forehead, just south of the broken horn. “I am so sorry that I caused so much hurt. I am so sorry that I failed you.” The words sting, but Leliana refuses to let the conversation center on her own failings. Instead, her hazel eyes sweep to the daughter who struggles to stand, who finally rises with the same tenacity and strength that Sabbath had always shown.

    “She’s so beautiful,” she says before dropping her head slightly to address the girl.

    “You are beautiful, Prayer, and you are so deeply loved.”

    it's only you and me there until the darkness calls
    let's face the dawn together; we'll brave whatever comes



    @[Sabbath] @[prayer]
    #6


    How fierce the trembling in her knees.
    The muscles spasm and quiver with the effort of remaining upright.
    She can feel every inch of her own body and she has never been more acutely aware of anything save for the sound of her mother’s voice at it had floated around and through her.
    But she can feel all of the places where the wind touches her. The air and the bugs and the sunshine.
    She feels these things more than she feels her mother’s voice now.
    She does not know yet just how desperately she will someday yearn for the sound of it.

    Because right now her mother is nudging her and she is tucking herself tightly against her side. She can feel every place their skin touches. Her cheek pressed firmly against her mother’s scaled shoulder, peering boldly into the face staring back at her.
    She flushes with heat when her mother kisses her, when she introduces her as Prayer and that great red woman drops her head to look Prayer in the eye and she does her best not to shrink even further into her mother’s side. But she says her name, too, says that she is loved. It fills her up, though she doesn’t know what it means.

    So, her tongue thick and clumsy in her mouth, she blinks between her mother’s face and this red face. She says the only thing she knows, “Prayer.” And then she grins and her chest fills with something hot and overwhelming and this fills her up, too. It is pride, but she cannot possibly know this.

    Prayer,” she says again and delights at the shape of the word as it takes up all of the space in her mouth. She giggles then, effervescent.


    p r a y e r




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